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RILEY CHILD-RHYMES 



RILEY 
CHILD-RHYMES 

JAMES 
WHITCOMB RILEY 



ILLUSTRATED BY 

WILL VAWTER 



ESJ 



INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



I- 



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^o^ 



40* 



Copyright, 1890, 1896, 1898 and 1905 

by 

James Whitcomb Riley 

Copyright 1920 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company 



Printed in the United States of America 



PRESS OF 

BRAUNWORTH & CO. 

BOOK MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



OCT 1 1 1920 
©CU576926 




With Hale Affection and Abiding Faith 
These Rhymes and Pictures 

Are Inscribed 
To the Children Everywhere 



He owns the bird-songs of the hills — 

The laughter of the April rills; 

And his are all the diamonds set 

In Morning's dewy coronet, — 

And his the Dusk's first minted stars 

That twinkle through the pasture-bars 

And litter all the skies at night 

With glittering scraps of silver light; — 

The rainbow's bar, from rim to rim, 

In beaten gold, belongs to him. 




CONTENTS 



PAGE 

At Aunty's House . 50 

Bear Story, The 174 

Boy Lives on Our Farm, The . . . . . . .62 

Boys' Candidate, The . 138 

Bumblebee, The . 58 

Circus-Day Parade, The ......... 106 

Curly Locks 32 

Days Gone By, The 54 

Down Around the River 45 

Envoy 137 

Funny Little Fellow, The 27 

Grandfather Squeers . 158 

Happy Little Cripple, The 36 

Home-Male Fairy-Tale, A . . . 170 

Impetuous Resolve, An 89 

Jolly Miller, The 130 

Life-Lesson, A . 168 

Little Coat, The 84 

Little Orphant Annie 17 

Lugubrious Whing-Whang, The Ill 

Naughty Claude 118 

Nine Little Goblins, The 96 

Old Hay-Mow, The 141 

Old Tramp, The 61 



CONTENTS— Continued 

PAGE 

On The Sunny Side . . . . . 145 

Our Hired Girl 133 

Out to Old Aunt Mary's 70 

Pet Coon, The 139 

Pixy People, The 149 

Raggedy Man, The 23 

Rider of the Knee, The . . . 42 

Runaway Boy, The 79 

South Wind and the Sun, The ....... 119 

Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me, The ..... 66 

Sudden Shower, A 154 

Time of Clearer Twitterings 101 

Waitin' fer the Cat to Die 113 

Who Santy-Claus Wuz 91 

Winter Fancies 74 







RILEY CHILD-RHYMES 





LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE 

/ ITTLE Orphant Annie's come to our house 
-*- i to stay, 

An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush 

the crumbs away, 
An* shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the 

hearth, an' sweep, 
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her 

board-an'-keep ; 
An' all us other childern, when the supper things is 

done, 
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest 
fun 

17 



LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE 

A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about, 
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you 
Ef you 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 

Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his 

prayers, — 
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs, 
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd 

him bawl, 
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't 

there at all! 
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby- 
hole an' press, 
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flUe, an' ever'wheres, 

I guess; 
But all they ever found was thist his pants an' j 

roundabout : — 
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you 
Ef you 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 
18 



LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE 

An* one time a little girl 'ud alius laugh an' grin, 
An' make fun of ever'one, an* all her blood an' kin ; 
An' onc't, when they was "company/' an* ole folks 

was there, 
She mocked 'em an* shocked 'em, an' said she didn't 

care! 
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run 

an' hide, 
They was two great big Black Things a-standin' by 

her side, 
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she 

knowed what she's about! 
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you 
Ef ycu 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 

An' little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue, 
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes 

woo-oo! 
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray, 
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched 

away, — 

21 



LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE 

You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond 

an' dear, 
An* churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's 

tear, 
An* he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all 

about, 
Er the Gobble-uns'll git you 
Ef you 
Don't 
Watch 
Out! 





THE RAGGEDY MAN 



OTHE RAGGEDY MAN! He works fer Pa; 
An* he's the goodest man ever you saw ! 
He comes to our house every day, 
An/ waters the horses, an* feeds 'em hay ; 
An* he opens the shed — an' we all ist laugh 
When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf ; 
An* nen — ef our hired girl says he can — 
He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann. — 
Ain't he a' awful good Raggedy Man? 
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 

W'y, The Raggedy Man — he's ist so good 
He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood ; 
An' nen he spades in our garden, too, 
An' does most things 'at boys can't do! — 
He clumbed clean up in our big tree 
An' shooked a' apple down fer me — 
An' nother'n', too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann — 
An' nother'n', too, fer The Raggedy Man. — 
Ain't he a' awful kind Raggedy Man? 
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 
23 



THE RAGGEDY MAN 

An* The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes 
An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes : 
Knows 'bout Giunts, an* Griffuns, an' Elves, 
An* the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers 

therselves ! 
An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot, 
He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got, 
'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can 
Turn into me, er 'Lizabuth Ann ! 
Ain't he a funny old Raggedy Man? 
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 

The Raggedy Man — one time when he 
Wuz makin' a little bow-'n'-orry fer me, 
Says "When you're big like your Pa is, 
Air you go' to keep a fine store like his — 
An' be a rich merchunt — an' wear fine 

clothes ? — 
Er what air you go' to be, goodness knows !" 
An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann, 
An' I says " 'M go' to be a Raggedy Man !- 
I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man !" 
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 




THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW 

?rpWAS a Funny Little Fellow 

-*- Of the very purest type, 
For he had a heart as mellow 

As an apple over-ripe; 
And the brightest little twinkle 

When a funny thing occurred, 
And the lightest little tinkle 

Of a laugh you ever heard ! 

His smile was like the glitter 
Of the sun in tropic lands, 

And his talk a sweeter twitter 
Than the swallow understands; 



27 



THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW 

Hear him sing — and tell a story — 
Snap a joke — ignite a pun, — 

'Twas a capture — rapture — glory, 
And explosion — all in one! 

Though he hadn't any money — 

That condiment which tends 
To make a fellow "honey" 

For the palate of his friends ; — 
Sweet simples he compounded — 

Sovereign antidotes for sin 
Or taint, — a faith unbounded 

That his friends were genuine. 

He wasn't honored, maybe — 

For his songs of praise were slim,- 
Yet I never knew a baby 

That wouldn't crow for him; 
I never knew a mcther 

But urged a kindly claim 
Upon him as a brother, 

At the mention of his name. 

The sick have ceased their sighing 
And have even found the grace 
28 



THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW 

Of a smile when they were dying 
As they looked upon his face ; 

And I've seen his eyes of laughter 
Melt in tears that only ran 

As though, swift dancing after, 
Came the Funny Little Man. 

He laughed away the sorrow, 

And he laughed away the gloom 

We are all so prone to borrow 
From the darkness of the tomb ; 

And he laughed across the ocean 
Of a happy life, and passed, 

With a laugh of glad emotion, 
Into Paradise at last. 

And I think the Angels knew him, 

And had gathered to await 
His coming, and run to him 

Through the widely-opened Gate- 
With their faces gleaming sunny 

For his laughter-loving sake, 
And thinking, "What a funny 

Little Angel he will make!" 

31 




GURLY LOCKS 

CURLY Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou he 
mine? 
Thcu shalt not ivash the dishes, nor yet feed 

the swine, — 
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, 
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream. 

Curly Locks ! Curly Locks ! wilt thou be mine ? 
The throb of my heart is in every line, 
And the pulse of a passion as airy and glad 
In its musical beat as the little Prince had! 

32 



CURLY LOCKS 

Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed 

the swine! — 
I'll dapple thy hands with these kisses of mine 
Till the pink of the nail of each finger shall be 
As a little pet blush in full blossom for me. 

But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, 
And thou shalt have fabric as fair as a dream, — 
The red of my veins, and the white of my love, 
And the gold of my joy for the braiding thereof. 

And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream 
From a service of silver, with jewels agleam, — 
At thy feet will I bide, at thy beck will I rise, 
And twinkle my soul in the night of thine eyes ! 

Curly Locks! Curly Lochs! wilt thou be mine? 
Thou shalt not ivash the dishes, nor yet feed 

the stvine. — 
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam 
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream. 




THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE 



'M thist a little cripple boy, an' never goin' to 



-*- grow 



An' get a great big man at all ! — 'cause Aunty told 

me so. 
When I was thist a baby onc't, I failed out of the bed 
An' got "The Curv'ture of the Spine" — 'at's what 

the Doctor said. 
I never had no Mother nen — f er my Pa runned away 
An' dassn't come back here no more — 'cause he 

was drunk one day 
An' stobbed a man in thish-ere town, an' couldn't 

pay his fine ! 
An' nen my Ma she died — an' I got "Curv'ture of 

the Spine!" 

36 



THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE 

I'm nine years old ! An' you can't guess how much I 

weigh, I bet! — 
Last birthday I weighed thirty-three ! — An' I weigh 

thirty yet! 
I'm awful little fer my size — I'm purt' nigh littler 

'nan 
Some babies is! — an' neighbers all calls me "The 

Little Man!" 
An' Doc one time he laughed an' said : "I 'spect, first 

thing you know, 
You'll have a little spike-tail coat an' travel with a 

show !" 
An' nen I laughed — till I looked round an' Aunty 

was a-cryin' — 
Sometimes she acts like that, 'cause I got "Curv'ture 

of the Spine." 

I set — while Aunty's washin' — on my little long-leg 

stool. 
An' watch the little boys an' girls a-skippin' by to 

school ; 
An' I peck on the winder, an' holler out an' say : 
"Who wants to fight The Little Man 'at dares you 

all to-day?" 

39 



THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE 

An*, nen the boys climbs on the fence, an' little girls 

peeks through, 
An* they all says : " 'Cause you're so big, you think 

we're 'feared o' you !" 
An' nen they yell, an' shake their fist at me, like 

I shake mine — 
They're thist in fun, you know, 'cause I got 

"Curv'ture of the Spine !" 

At evening, when the ironin's done, an' Aunty's 

fixed the fire, 
An' filled an' lit the lamp, an' trimmed the wick an' 

turned it higher, 
An' fetched the wood all in f er night, an' locked the 

kitchen door, 
An' stuffed the ole crack where the wind blows in 

up through the floor — 
She sets the kittle on the coals, an' biles an' makes 

the tea, 
An' fries the liver an' the mush, an' cooks a' egg 

f er me ; 
An' sometimes — when I cough so hard — her 

elderberry wine 
Don't go so bad fer little boys with "Curv'ture cf 

the Spine!" 

40 



THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE 

But Aunty's all so childish-like on my account, you 

see, 
I'm 'most afeard she'll be took down — an' 'at's 

what bothers me! — 
'Cause ef my good old Aunty ever would git sick an' 

die, 
I don't know what she'd do in Heaven — till / come, 

by an' by : — 
Fer she's so ust to all my ways, an' ever'thing, you 

know, 
An' no one there like me, to nuss an' worry over 

so! — 
'Cause all the childerns there's so" straight an' strong 

an' fine, 
They's nary angel 'bout the place with "Curv'ture 

of the Spine !" 




THE RIDER OF THE KNEE 

JT NIGHTLY Rider of" the Knee 
-"- Of Proud-prancing Unclery ! 
Gaily mount, and wave the sign 
Of that mastery of thine. 

Pat thy steed and turn him free, 
Knightly Rider of the Knee! 
Sit thy charger as a throne — - 
Lash him with thy laugh alone : 

Sting him only with the spur 
Of such wit as may occur, 
Knightly Rider of the Knee, 
In thy shriek of ecstasy. 

Would, as now, we might endure, 
Twain as one — thou miniature 
Ruler, at the rein of me — 
Knightly Rider of the Knee ! 

42 




■:jmo~ 



DOWN AROUND THE RIVER 

IVTOON-TIME an' June-time, down around the 

-L ^ river ! 

Have to furse with 'Lizy Ann — but lawzy! I 

fergive her! 
Drives me off the place, an' says 'at all 'at she's 

a-wishin', 
Land o' gracious! time'll come I'll git enough o' 

fishin' ! 
Little Dave, a-choppin' wood, never 'pears to notice ; 
Don't know where she's hid his hat, er keerin' where 

his coat is, — 
Specalatin', more'n like, he hain't a-goin' to mind me, 
An' guessin' where, say twelve o'clock, a feller'd 

likely find me! 

45 



DOWN AROUND THE RIVER 

Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river! 
Clean out o' sight o' home, an skulkin' under kivver 
Of the sycamores, jack-oaks, an' swamp-ash an' 

ellum — 
Idies all so jumbled up, you kin hardly tell 'em! — 
Tired, you know, but lovin' it, an' smilin' jes' to 

think 'at 
Any sweeter tiredness you'd fairly want to drink it ! 
Tired o' fishin'- — tired o' fun — line out slack an' 

slacker — 
All you want in all the world's a little more tobacker ! 

Hungry, but a-hidin' it, er jes' a-not a-keerin': — - 
Kingfisher gittin' up an' skootin' out o' hearin'; 
Snipes on the t'other side, where the County Ditch 

is, 
Wadin' up an' down the aidge like they'd rolled their 

britches ! 
Old turkle on the root kindo-sorto drappin' 
Intoo th' worter like he don't know how it happen! 
Worter, shade an' all so mixed, don't know which 

you'd orter 
Say; th' ivorter in the shadder- — shadder in the 

ivorter! 

46 



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DOWN AROUND THE RIVER 

Sombody hollerin' — Vay around the bend in 
Upper Fork — where yer eye kin jes' ketch the endin' 
Of the shiney wedge o' wake some muss-rat's 

a-makin' 
With that pesky nose o' his ! Then a sniff o' bacon, 
Corn-bred an' 'dock-greens — an' little Dave 

a-shinnm' 
'Crost the rocks an* mussel-shells, a-limpin' an' 

a-grinnin', 
With yer dinner f er ye, an' a blessin' from the giver, 
Noon-time an' June-time down around the river ! 




»'" 




AT AUNTY'S HOUSE 

/T~\NE time, when we'z at Aunty's house— 

^-^ 'Way in the country! — where 

They's ist but woods — an' pigs, an' cows — 

An' all's outdoors an' air ! — 
An' orchurd-swing ; an' churry-trees — 
An' churries in 'em! — Yes, an' these- 
Here red-head birds steals all they please, 

An' tetch 'em ef you dare! — 
W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there, 

We et oat on the porch! 
50 



AT AUNTY'S HOUSE 

Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut 

The table wuz, an' I 
Let Aunty set by me an' cut 

My vittuls up — an' pie. 
Tuz awful funny! — I could see 
The red-heads in the churry-tree; 
An* bee-hives, where you got to be 

So keerful, goin' by; — 
An' "Comp'ny" there an' all ! — an' we — 

We et out on the porch! 

An' I ist et p'surves an' things 

'At Ma don't 'low me to — 
An' chickun-gizzurds — (don't like wings 

Like Parunts does! do you?) 
An' all the time, the wind blowed there, 
An' I could feel it in my hair, 
An' ist smell clover everywhere] — 

An' a' old red-head flew 
Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair, 

When we et on the porch! 




THE DAYS GONE BY 

OTHE days gone by ! the days gone by ! 
The apples in the orchard, and the pathway 
through- the rye; 
The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail 
As he piped across the meadows sweet as any night- 
ingale ; 
When the bloom was on the clover, and the blue was 

in the sky, 
And my happy heart brimmed over, in the days 
gone by. 

54 



y 




THE DAYS GONE BY 

In the days gone by, when my naked feet were 

tripped 
By the honeysuckle tangles where the water-lilies 

dipped, 
And the ripples of the river lipped the moss along 

the brink, 
Where the placid-eyed and lazy-footed cattle came 

to drink, 
And the tilting snipe stood fearless of the truant's 

wayward cry 
And the splashing of the swimmer, in the days 

gone by. 

the days gone by ! the days gone by ! 

The music of the laughing lip, the luster of the eye ; 

The childish faith in fairies, and Aladdin's magic 

ring — 
The simple, soul-reposing, glad belief in every-; 

thing, — 
When life was like a story, holding neither sob nor 

sigh, 
In the golden olden glory of the days gone by. 




-*)■ 



THE BUMBLEBEE 

YOU better not fool with a Bumblebee ! — 
Ef you don't think they can sting — you'll see ! 
They're lazy to look at, an' kindo' go 
Buzzin' an' hummin' aroun' so slow, 
An' ac' so slouchy an' all fagged out, 
Danglin' their legs as they drone about 
The hollyhawks 'at they can't climb in 
'Ithout ist a-tumble-un out ag'in! 
Wunst I watched one climb clean 'way 
In a jim'son-blossom, I did, one day, — 
An' I ist grabbed it — an' nen let go — 
An' "Ooh-ooh! Honey! I told ye so!" 
Says The Raggedy Man; an' he ist run 
An' pullt out the stinger, an' don't laugh none, 
An' says : "They has ben folks, I guess, 
'At thought I wuz predjudust, more er less, — 
Yit I still maintain 'at a Bumblebee 
Wears out his welcome too quick fer me!" 

58 




THE OLD TRAMP 

A } OLD Tramp slep' in our stable wunst, 
-£*- An* The Raggedy Man he caught 
An* roust him up, an' chased him off 
Clean out through our back lot! 

An* th* Old Tramp hollered back an' said — 
"You're a purty man! — You air! — 

With a pair o' eyes like two fried eggs, 
An' a nose like a Bartlutt pear!" 
61 







THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM 



rpHE BOY lives on our Farm, he's not 
-*- Afeard o' horses none! 
An* he can make 'em lope, er trot, 

Er rack, er pace, er run. 
Sometimes he drives two horses, when 

He comes to town an* brings 
A wagon-full o' taters nen, 

An' roastin'-ears an* things. 
62 



THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM 

Two horses is "a team," he says, 

An* when you drive er hitch, 
The right-un's a "near-horse," I guess 

Er "off"— I don't know which— 
The Boy lives on our Farm, he told 

Me, too, 'at he can see, 
By lookin' at their teeth, how old 

A horse is, to a T! 

I'd be the gladdest boy alive 

Ef I knowed much as that, 
An' could stand up like him an' drive, 

An' ist push back my hat, 
Like he comes skallyhootin' through 

Our alley, with one arm 
A-wavin' Fare-ye-well ! to you — 

The Boy lives on our Farm! 




v k 



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THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME 

UNCLE Sidney, when he wuz here, 
Maked me a squirtgun out o' some 
Elder-bushes 'at growed out near 
Where wuz the brickyard — 'way out clear 
To where the toll-gate come! 

So when we walked back home again, 

He maked it, out in our woodhouse where 
Wuz the old workbench, an' the old jack-plane, 
An' the old 'pokeshave, an' the tools all lay'n' 
1st like he wants 'em there. 

He sawed it first with the old hand-saw; 
An' nen he peeled off the bark, an' got 
Some glass an' scraped it ; an' told 'bout Pa, 
When he wuz a boy an' fooled his Ma, 
An' the whippin' 'at he caught. 
66 



THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME 

Nen Uncle Sidney, he took an' filed 

A' old arn ramrod ; an' one o' the ends 
He screwed fast into the vise ; an' smiled, 
Thinking he said, o' when he wuz a child, 
Tore him an' Pa wuz mens. 

He punched out the peth, an' nen he put 

A plug in the end with a hole notched through ; 
Nen took the old drawey-knife an' cut 
An' maked a handle ? at shoved clean shut 
But ist where yer hand held to. 

An' he wropt th'uther end with some string an' 
white 
Piece o' the sleeve of a' old tored shirt; 
An' nen he showed me to hold it tight, 
An' suck in the water an' work it right 
An' it ? ud ist squirt an' squirt! 



OUT TO OLD AUNT MARTS 

"WTASN'T it pleasant, brother mine, 

* * In those old days of the lost sunshine 
Of youth — when the Saturday's chores were through 
And the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen, too, 
And we went visiting, "me and you," 
Out to Old Aunt Mary's? 



It all comes back so clear to-day! 
Though I am as bald as you are gray — 
Out by the barn-lot, and down the lane, 
We patter along in the dust again, 
As light as the tips of the drops of the rain, 
Out to Old Aunt Mary's ! 



We cross the pasture, and through the wood 
Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood, 
Where the hammering "red-heads" hopped awry, 
And the buzzard "raised" in the "clearing" sky 
And lolled and circled, as we went by 
Out to Old Aunt Mary's. 
70 



OUT TO OLD AUNT MARY'S 

And then in the dust of the road again ; 
And the teams we met, and the countrymen ; 
And the long highway, with sunshine spread 
As thick as butter on country bread, 
Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead 
Out to Old Aunt Mary's. 

Why, I see her now in the open door, 
Where the little gourds grew up the sides and o'er 
The clapboard roof! — And her face — ah, me! 
Wasn't it good for a boy to see — 
And wasn't it good for a boy to be 
Out to Old Aunt Mary's? 

And my brother, so far away, 
This is to tell you she waits to-day 
To welcome us: — Aunt Mary fell 
Asleep this morning, whispering, "Tell 
The boys to come!" And all is well 
Out to Old Aunt Mary's. 








WINTER FANCIES 

I 

W71NTER without 
W And warmth within; 
The winds may shout 

And the storm begin; 
The snows may pack 

At the window pane, 
And the skies grow black, 
And the sun remain 
Hidden away 

The livelong day — 

But here — in here is the warmth of- May ! 

74 



WINTER FANCIES 
II 

Swoop you spitefullest 
Up the flue, 
Wild winds — do! 
What in the world do I care for you ? 
delightfullest 

Weather of all, 
Howl and squall, 
And shake the trees till the last leaves fall ! 



Ill 



The joy one feels, 

In an easy chair, 
Cocking- his heels 

In the dancing air 
That wreathes the rim of a roaring stove 
Whose heat loves better than hearts can love, 
Will not permit 

The coldest day 

To drive away 
The fire in his blood, and the bliss of it! 

77 



WINTER FANCIES 
IV 

Then blow, Winds, blow! 

And rave and shriek, 
And snarl and snow 

Till your breath grows weak — 
While here in my room 

I'm as snugly shut 
As a glad little worm 

In the heart of a nut ! 




">*/ 




THE RUNAWAY BOY 

WUNST I sassed my Pa, an' he 
Won't stand that, an' punished me,- 
Nen when he was gone that day, 
I slipped out an' runned away. 

I tooked all my copper-cents, 
An' clumbed over our back fence 
In the jim'son-weeds 'at growed 
Ever'where all down the road. 

Nen I got out there, an' nen 
I runned some — an' runned again 
When I met a man 'at led 
A big cow 'at shooked her head. 
79 



THE RUNAWAY BOY 

I went down a long, long lane 
Where was little pigs a-play'n' ; 
An' a grea'-big pig went "Booh!" 
An* jumped up, an' skeered me too. 

Nen I scampered past, an' they 
Was somebody hollered "Hey!" 
An' I ist looked ever'where, 
An* they was nobody there. 

I Want to, but I'm 'fraid to try 
To go back. . . . An' by-an'-by 
Somepin' hurts my throat inside — 
An' I want my Ma — an' cried. 

Nen a grea'-big girl come though 
Where's a gate, an' telled me who 
Am I ? an' ef I tell where 
My home's at she'll show me there. 

But I couldn't ist but tell 
What's my name; an' she says well, 
An' she tooked me up an' says 
She know where I live, she guess. 
80 



THE RUNAWAY BOY 

Nen she telled me hug wite close 
Round her neck! — an' off she goes 
Skippin' up the street! An' nen 
Purty soon I'm home again. 

An' my Ma, when she kissed me, 
Kissed the big girl too, an' she 
Kissed me — ef I p'omise shore 
I won't run away no more ! 





*>-&. 



THE LITTLE COAT 

TTERE'S his ragged "roundabout" ; 
-*--*- Turn the pockets inside out : 
See; his pen-knife, lost to use, 
Rusted shut with apple-juice; . 
Here, with marbles, top and string, 
Is his deadly "devil-sling," 
With its rubber, limp at last 
As the sparrows of the past ! 
Beeswax — buckles — leather straps — 
Bullets, and a box of caps, — 
Not a thing of all, I guess, 
But betrays some waywardness — 
E'en these tickets, blue and red, 
For the Bible-verses said — 
Such as this his mem'ry kept — 

"Jesus wept." 
84 



THE LITTLE COAT 

Here's a fishing hook-and-line, 

Tangled up with wire and twine, 

And dead angle-worms, and some 

Slugs of lead and chewing-gum, 

Blent with scents that can but come 

From the oil of rhodium. 

Here — a soiled, yet dainty note, 

That some little sweetheart wrote, 

Dotting, — "Vine grows round the stump," 

And — "My sweetest sugar lump !" 

Wrapped in this — a padlock key 

Where he's filed a touch-hole — see! 

And some powder in a quill 

Corked up with a liver pill; 

And a spongy little chunk 

Of "punk." 

Here's the little coat — but ! 
Where is he we've censured so! 
Don't you hear us calling, dear? 
Back! come back, and never fear. — 
You may wander where you will, 
Over orchard, field and hill ; 



87 



THE LITTLE COAT 

You may kill the birds, or do 
Anything that pleases you! 
Ah, this empty coat of his! 
Every tatter worth a kiss; 
Every stain as pure instead 
As the white stars overhead: 
And the pockets — homes were they 
Of the little hands that play 
Now no more — but, absent, thus 

Beckon us. 





AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE 

WHEN little Dickie Swope's a man, 
He's go' to be a Sailor; 
An* little Harney Tincher, he's 

A-go' to be a Tailor: 
Bud Mitchell, he's a-go' to be 
A stylish Carriage-Maker; 
An' when / grow a grea'-big man, 
I'm go* to be a Baker! 
89 



AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE 

An' Dick'll buy his sailor-suit 

0' Hame ; and Hame'll take it 
An' buy as fine a double-rigg 

As ever Bud can make it : 
An* nen all three'll drive roun' fer me 

An' we'll drive off togevver, 
A-slingin' pie-crust 'long the road 

Ferever an' ferever! 





J 



WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ 

ES' a little bit o' feller — I remember still — 
Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a 
youngster will. 
Fourth o' July's nothing to it! — New Year's ain't a 

smell ! 
Easter-Sunday — Circus-day — jes' all dead in the 

shell ! 
Lawzy, though! at night, you know, to set around 

an' hear 
The old folks work the story off about the sledge 

an' deer, 
And "Santy" skootin' round the roof, all wrapt in 

fur an' fuzz — 
Long afore 

I knowed who 

"Santy-Claus" wuz! 
91 



WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ 

Ust to wait, an' set up late, a week er two ahead ; 
Couldn't hardly keep awake, ner wouldn't go to bed ; 
Kittle stewin' on the fire, an' Mother settin' here 
Darnin' socks, an' rockin' in the skreeky rockin'- 

cheer ; 
Pap gap', an' wonder where it wuz the money went, 
An' quar'l with his frosted heels, an' spill his 

liniment ; 
An' me a-dreamm' sleigh-bells when the clock 'ud 

whir an' buzz, 
Long afore 

I knowed who 

"Santy-Claus" wuz ! 

Size the fire-place up an' figger how "Ole Santy" 

could 
Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said 

he would; 
Wisht 'at I could hide an' see him — wunderd what 

he'd say 
Ef he ketched a feller layin' fer him thataway ! 
But I bet on him, an' liked him, same as ef he had 
Turned to pat me on the back an' say, "Look here, 

my lad, 

92 



WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ 

Here's my pack, — jes' he'p yourse'f, like all good 

boys does!" 
Long afore 

I knowed who 

"Santy-Claus" wuz ! 

Wisht that yarn was true about him, as it 'peared 

to be — 
Truth made out o' lies like that-un's good enough 

fer me! — 
Wisht I still wuz so confidin' I could jes' go wild 
Over hangin' up my stocking, like the little child 
Climbin' in my lap to-night, an' beggin' me to tell 
'Bout them reindeers, and "Old Santy" that she 

loves so well 
I'm half sorry fer this little-girl-sweetheart of his — 
Long afore 

She knows who 

"Santy-Claus" is! 





THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS 

HHHEY all climbed up on a high board-fence — 
-*- Nine little Goblins, with green-glass eyes — 
Nine little Goblins that had no sense, 

And couldn't tell coppers from cold mince pies ; 
And they all climbed up on the fence, and sat — 
And I asked them what they were staring at. 

And the first one said, as he scratched his head 

With a queer little arm that reached out of his ear 
And rasped its claws in his hair so red — 
"This is what this little arm is f er !" 

And he scratched and stared, and the next one 

said, 
"How on earth do you scratch your head?" 
96 



THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS 

And he laughed like the screech of a rusty hinge— 

Laughed and laughed till his face grew black ; 
And when he choked, with a final twinge 

Of his stifling laughter, he thumped his back 
With a fist that grew on the end of his tail 
Till the breath came back to his lips so pale. 

And the third little Goblin leered round at me- 

And there were no lids on his eyes at all 

And he clucked one eye, and he says, says he, 
"What is the style of your socks this fall?" 
And he clapped his heels— and I sighed to see 
That he had hands where his feet should be. 

Then a bald-faced Goblin, gray and grim, 

Bowed his head, and I saw him slip 
His eyebrows off, as I looked at him, 
And paste them over his upper lip ; 

And then he moaned in remorseful pain 

"Would — ah, would I'd me brows again !" 

And then the whole of the Goblin band 

Rocked on the fence-top to and fro, 
And clung, in a long row, hand in hand, 

Singing the songs that they used to know 

99 



THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS 

Singing the songs that their grandsires sung 
In the goo-goo days of the Goblin-tongue 

And ever they kept their green-glass eyes 

Fixed on me with a stony stare- 
Till my own grew glazed with a dread surmise, 
And my hat whooped up on my lifted hair, 
And I felt the heart in my breast snap to 
As you've heard the lid of a snuff-box do. 

And they sang "You're asleep! There is no board- 
fence, 
And never a Goblin with green-glass eyes! — 
Tis only a vision the mind invents 

After a supper of cold mince-pies, — 
And you're doomed to dream this way," they said, — 
"And you shan't wake up till you're clean plum 
dead!" 





TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS 

rpiME of crisp and tawny leaves, 
J- And of tarnished harvest sheaves, 
And of dusty grasses — weeds — 
Thistles, with their tufted seeds 
Voyaging the Autumn breeze 
Like as fairy argosies: 
Time of quicker flash of wings, 
And of clearer twitterings 
In the grove, or deeper shade 
Of the tangled everglade, — 
Where the spotted water-snake 
Coils him in the sunniest brake; 
And the bittern, as in fright, 
Darts, in sudden, slanting flight, 
Southward, while the startled crane 
Films his eyes in dreams again. 
101 



TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS 

Down along the dwindled creek 
We go loitering. We speak 
Only with old questionings 
Of the dear remembered things 
Of the days of long ago, 
When the stream seemed thus and so 
In our boyish eyes : — The bank 
Greener then, through rank on rank 
Of the mottled sycamores, 
Touching tops across the shores ; 
Here, the hazel thicket stood — 
There, the almost pathless wood 
Where the shellbark hickory tree 
Rained its wealth on you and me. 
Autumn! as you loved us then, 
Take us to your heart again ! 

Season halest of the year! 
How the zestful atmosphere 
Nettles blood and brain, and smites 
Into life the old delights 
We have tasted in our youth, 
And our graver years, forsooth ! 
How again the boyish heart 
Leaps to see the chipmunk start 
102 



TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS 

From the brush and sleek the sun's 
Very beauty, as he runs! 
How again a subtle hint 
Of crushed pennyroyal or mint, 
Sends us on our knees, as when 
We were truant boys of ten — 
Brown marauders of the wood, 
Merrier than Robin Hood ! 

Ah! will any minstrel say, 
In his sweetest roundelay, 
What is sweeter, after all, 
Than black haws, in early Fall — 
Fruit so sweet the frost first sat, 
Dainty-toothed, and nibbled at ! 
And will any poet sing 
Of a lusher, richer thing 
Than a ripe May-apple, rolled 
Like a pulpy lump of gold 
Under thumb and finger-tips, 
And poured molten through the lips ? 
Go, ye bards of classic themes, 
Pipe your songs by classic streams ! 
I would twang the redbird's wings 
In the thicket while he sings! 
105 




THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE 

/~\H, THE Circus-Day parade! How the bugles 

^^ played and played! 

And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, 

and neighed, 
As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's 

time 
Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody 

sublime ! 

How the grand band-wagon shone with a splendor 

all its own, 
And glittered with a glory that our dreams had 

never known! 
And how the boys behind, high and low of every 

kind, 
Marched in unconscious capture, with a rapture 

undefined ! 

106 



THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE 

How the horsemen, two and two, with their plumes 

of white and blue, 
And crimson, gold and purple, nodding by at me 

and you, 
Waved the banners that they bore, as the Knights 

in days of yore, 
Till our glad eyes gleamed and glistened like the 

spangles that they wore ! 

How the graceless-graceful stride of the elephant 

was eyed, 
And the capers of the little horse that cantered at 

his side! 
How the shambling camels, tame to the plaudits of 

their fame, 
With listless eyes came silent, masticating as they 

came. 

How the cages jolted past, with each wagon battened 

fast, 
And the mystery within it only hinted of at last 
From the little grated square in the rear, and nosing 

there 
The snout of some strange animal that sniffed the 

outer air! 

109 



THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE 

And, last of all, The Clown, making* mirth for all 

the town, 
With his lips curved ever upward and his eyebrows 

ever down, 
And his chief attention paid to the little mule that 

played 
A tattoo on the dashboard with his heels, in the 

parade. 

Oh ! the Circus-Day parade ! How the bugles played 

and played! 
And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes 

and neighed, 
As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's 

time 
Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody 

sublime ! 





THE LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG 

rpHE rhyme o' The Raggedy Man's 'at's best 
J- Is Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome 

Ribs, — 
'Cause that-un's the strangest of all o' the rest, 
An' the worst to learn, an' the last one guessed, 
An' the funniest one, an' the foolishest. — 
Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs ! — 

I don't know what in the world it means — 

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs ! — 
An' nen when I tell him I don't, he leans 
Like he was a-grindin' on some machines 
An' says: Ef I don't, w'y, I don't know beans! 
Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! — 
111 



THE LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG 

Out on the margin of Moonshine Land, 

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs ! — 
Out where the Whing- Whang loves to stand, 
Writing his name with his tail in the sand, 
And swiping it out with his oogerish hand ; 
Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! 

Is it the gibber of Gungs or Keeks? 

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! 
Or what is the sound that the Whing- Whang 

seeks ? — 
Crouching low by the winding creeks 
And holding his breath for weeks and weeks ! 

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! 

Aroint him the wraithest of wraithly things! 

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! 
'Tis a fair Whing- Whangess, with phosphor rings 
And bridal-jewels of fangs and stings; 
And she sits and as sadly and softly sings 
As the mildewed whir of her own dead wings, — 

Tickle me, Dear, 
Tickle me here, 

Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!- — 

112 




WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE 

T AWZY! don't I rickollect 

-*-^ That-'air old swing in the lane ! 

Right and proper, I expect, 

Old times can't come back again; 
But I want to state, ef they 
Could come back, and I could say 
What my pick 'ud be, i jing! 
I'd say, Gimme the old swing 
'Nunder the old locus'-trees 
On the old place, ef you please! — 
Danglin' there with half-shet eye, 
Waitin' f er the cat to die ! 
113 



WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE 

I'd say, Gimme the old gang 

Of barefooted, hungry, lean, 
Ornry boys you want to hang 

When you're growed up twic't as mean ! 
The old gyarden-patch, the old 
Truants, and the stuff we stol'd ! 
The old stompin'-ground, where we 
Wore the grass off, wild and free 
As the swoop of the old swing, 
Where we ust to climb and cling, 
And twist roun', and fight, and lie — 
Waitin' fer the cat to die! 

'Pears like I 'most alius could 
Swing the highest of the crowd — 

Jes' sail up there tel I stood 

Down-side-up, and screech out loud,— 

Ketch my breath, and jes' drap back 

Fer to let the old swing slack, 

Yit my tow-head dippin' still 

In the green boughs, and the chill 

Up my backbone taperin' down, 

With my shadder on the groun' 

Slow and slower trailin' by — 

Waitin' fer the cat to die! 
114 



WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE 

Now my daughter's little Jane's 

Got a kind o' baby-swing 
On the porch, so's when it rains 

She kin play there — little thing ! 
And I'd limped out t'other day 
With my old cheer this-a-way, 
Swingin' her and rockin' too, 
Thinkin' how / ust to do 
At her age, when suddently, 
"Hey, Gran'pap!" she says to me, 
"Why you rock so slow?" . . , Says I, 
"Waitin' fer the cat to die!" 




NAUGHTY CLAUDE 

%V7"HEN Little Claude was naughty wunst 
* * At dinner-time, an' said 
He won't say "Thank you" to his Ma, 

She maked him go to bed 
An' stay two hours an' not git up, — 

So when the clock struck Two, 
Nen Claude says, — "Thank you, Mr. Clock, 

I'm much obleeged to you!" 




«%v 



" . 



. \* ,.-4, - 



i 




THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN 

r\ THE South Wind and the Sun! 
^-^ How each loved the other one — 
Full of fancy — full of folly — 

Full of jollity and fun! 

How they romped and ran about, 

Like two boys when school is out, 
With glowing face, and lisping lip, 

Low laugh, and lifted shout! 

And the South Wind — he was dressed 
With a ribbon round his breast 

That floated, flapped and fluttered 
In a riotous unrest; 
And a drapery of mist, 
From the shoulder and the wrist 

Flowing backward with the motion 
Of the waving hand he kissed. 
119 



THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN 

And the Sun had on a crown 

Wrought of gilded thistledown, 
And a scarf of velvet vapor, 

And a raveled-rainbow gown; 

And his tinsel-tangled hair, 

Tossed and lost upon the air, 
Was glossier and flossier 

Than any anywhere. 

And the South Wind's eyes were two 

Little dancing drops of dew, 
As he puffed his cheeks, and pursed his lips, 

And blew and blew and blew! 

And the Sun's — like diamond-stone, 

Brighter yet than ever known, 
As he knit his brows and held his breath, 

And shone and shone and shone ! 

And this pair of merry fays 

Wandered through the summer days ; 
Arm-in-arm they went together 

Over heights of morning haze — 

Over slanting slopes of lawn 

They went on and on and on, 
Where the daisies looked like star-tracks 

Trailing up and down the dawn. 
120 



THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN 

And where'er they found the top 

Of a wheat-stalk droop and lop, 
They chucked it underneath the chin 

And praised the lavish crop, 

Till it lifted with the pride 

Of the heads it grew beside, 
And then the South Wind and the Sun 

Went onward satisfied. 

Over meadow-lands they tripped, 

Where the dandelions dipped 
In crimson foam of clover bloom 

And dripped and dripped and dripped! 

And they clinched the bumble-stings, 

Gauming honey on their wings, 
And bundling them in lily-bells, 

With maudlin murmurings. 

And the humming-bird, that hung 

Like a jewel up among 
The tilted honeysuckle horns, 

They mesmerized and swung 

In the palpitating air, 

Drowsed with odors strange and rare, 
And, with whispered laughter, slipped away, 

And left him hanging there. 
123 



THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN 

And they braided blades of grass 
Where the truant had to pass; 

And they wriggled through the rushes 
And the reeds of the morass, 
Where they danced, in rapture sweet, 
O'er the leaves that laid a street 

Of undulant mosaic for 
The touches of their feet. 

By the brook with mossy brink, 
Where the cattle came to drink, 

They trilled and piped and whistled 
With the thrush and bobolink, 
Till the kine, in listless pause, 
Switched their tails in mute applause, 

With lifted heads, and dreamy eyes, 
And bubble-dripping jaws. 

And where the melons grew, 
Streaked with yellow, green and blue, 

These jolly sprites went wandering 
Through spangled paths of dew; 
And the melons, here and there, 
They made love to, everywhere, 

Turning their pink souls to crimson 
With caresses fond and fair. 
124 



THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN 

Over orchard walls they went, 

Where the fruited boughs were bent 
Till they brushed the sward beneath them 

Where the shine and shadow blent; 

And the great green pear they shook 

Till the sallow hue forsook 
Its features, and the gleam of gold 

Laughed out in every look. 

And they stroked the downy cheek 
Of the peach, and smoothed it sleek, 

And flushed it into splendor; 
And, with many an elfish freak, 
Gave the russet's rust a wipe — 
Prankt the rambo with a stripe, 

And the winesap blushed its reddest 
As they spanked the pippins ripe. 

Through the woven ambuscade 
That the twining vines had made, 

They found the grapes, in clusters, 
Drinking up the shine and shade — 
Plumpt, like tiny skins of wine, 
With a vintage so divine 

That the tongue of Fancy tingled 
With the tang of muscadine. 
125 



THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN 

And the golden-banded bees, 
Droning o'er the flowery leas, 

They bridled, reined, and rode away 
Across the fragrant breeze, 
Till in hollow oak and elm 
They had groomed and stabled them 

In waxen stalls that oozed with dews 
Of rose and lily-stem. 

Where the dusty highway leads, 
High above the wayside weeds, 

They sowed the air with butterflies 
Like blooming flower-seeds, 
Till the dull grasshopper sprung 
Half a man's-height up, and hung 

Tranced in the heat, with whirring wings, 
And sung and sung and sung! 

And they loitered, hand in hand, 
Where the snipe along the sand 

Of the river ran to meet them 
As the ripple meets the land, 
Till the dragonfly, in light 
Gauzy armor, burnished bright, 

Came tilting down the waters 
In a wild, bewildered flight. 
126 



THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN 

And they heard the kildee's call, 

And afar, the waterfall, 
But the rustle of a falling leaf 

They heard above it all; 

And the trailing willow crept 

Deeper in the tide that swept 
The leafy shallop to the shore, 

And wept and wept and wept ! 

And the fairy vessel veered 

From its moorings — tacked and steered 

For the center of the current — 
Sailed away and disappeared: 
And the burthen that it bore 
From the long-enchanted shore — 

"Alas! the South Wind and the Sun!" 
I murmur evermore. 

For the South Wind and the Sun, 

Each so loves the other one, 
For all his jolly folly, 

And frivolity and fun, 

That our love for them they weigh 

As their fickle fancies may, 
And when at last we love them most, 

They laugh and sail away. 
129 




I 



THE JOLLY MILLER 

[Restored Romaunt.] 

T WAS a Jolly Miller lived on the River Dee ; 
He looked upon his piller, and there he found 
a flea: 

"0 Mr. Flea! you have bit' me, 
And you shall shorely die!" 
So he crunched his bones against the stones — 
And there he let him lie! 

'Twas then the Jolly Miller he laughed and told his 

wife, 
And she laughed fit to kill her, and dropped her 
carvin'-knif e ! — 
"0 Mr. Flea!" "Ho-ho!" "Tee-hee!" 

They both laughed fit to kill, 
Until the sound did almost drownd 
The rumble of the mill! . 
130 



THE JOLLY MILLER 

"Laugh on, my Jolly Miller land Missus Miller, too! — 
But there's a weeping-wilier will soon wave over 
you!" 
The voice was all so awful small — 

So very small and slim ! — 
He durst' infer that it was her, 
Ner her infer 'twas him! 

That night the Jolly Miller, says he, "It's Wif ey dear, 
That cat o' yourn, I'd kill her! — her actions is so 
queer, — 
She's rubbin' 'g'inst the grindstone-legs, 

And yowlin' at the sky — 
And I 'low the moon hain't greener 
Than the yaller of her eye !" 

And as the Jolly Miller went chuckle-un to bed, 
Was Somepin jerked his piller from underneath his 
head ! 
"0 Wife," says he, on-easi-lee, 

"Fetch here that lantern there!" 
But Somepin moans in thunder tones, 
"You tetch it ef you dare!" 

131 



THE JOLLY MILLER 

'Twas then the Jolly Miller he trimbled and he 

quailed — 
And his wife choked until her breath come back, 'n' 
she wailed! 
And "0!" cried she, "it is the Flea, 
All white and pale and wann — 
He's got you in his clutches, and 
He's bigger than a man!" 

"Ho! ho! my Jolly Miller," (fer 'twas the Flea, fer 

shore!) 
"I reckon you'll not rack my bo:ies ner scrunch 'em 
any more!" 
And then the Ghost he grabbed him clos't, 

With many a ghastly smile, 
And from the doorstep stooped and hopped 
About four hundred mile! 




i 




OUR HIRED GIRL 

OUR hired girl, she's 'Lizabuth Ann; 
An* she can cook best things to eat ! 
She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, 

An' pours in somepin , 'at's good and sweet, 
An' nen she salts it all on top 
With cinnamon; an* nen she'll stop 
An' stoop an* slide it, ist as slow, 
In th' old cook-stove, so's 'twon't slop 
An' git all spilled ; nen bakes it, so 
It's custard pie, first thing you know! 
An' nen she'll say: 
"Clear out o' my way! 
They's time f er work, an' time f er play ! — 
Take yer dough, an' run, Child, run! 
Er I cain't git no cookin' done !" 
133 



OUR HIRED GIRL 

When our hired girl 'tends like she's mad, 

An* says folks got to walk the chalk 
When she's around, er wisht they had, 

I play out on our porch an' talk 
To th' Raggedy Man 'at mows our lawn ; 
An' he says "Whew!" an' nen leans on 

His old crook-scythe, and blinks his eyes 
An' sniffs all around an' says, — "I swawn! 
Ef my old nose don't tell me lies, 
It 'pears like I smell custard-pies !" 
An' nen he'll say, — 
"Clear out o' my way ! 
They's time fer work an' time fer play! 
Take yer dough, an' run, Child; run! 
Er she cain't git no cookin' done!" 



Wunst our hired girl, one time when she 
Got the supper, an' we all et, 

An' it was night, an' Ma an' me 

An' Pa went wher' the "Social" met, — 

An' nen when we come home, an' see 

A light in the kitchen-door, an' we 
Heerd a maccordeum, Pa says, "Lan'- 
0' Gracious! who can her beau be?" 

134 



OUR HIRED GIRL 

An' I marched in, an' 'Lizabuth Ann 
Wuz parchin' corn f er the Raggedy Man ! 

Better say 

"Clear out o' the way! 
They's time f er work, an' time f er play ! 

Take the hint, an' run, Child ; run ! 

Er we cain't git no courtin' done !" 





THE BOYS' CANDIDATE 



T AS' time 'at Uncle Sidney come, 
-Li He bringed a watermelon home — 

An' half the boys in town, 
Come taggin' after him. — An' he 
Says, when we et it, — "Gracious me! 

'S the boy-house fell down?" 
138 




N' 



THE PET COON 

"OEY BIXLER ketched him, and fetched him in 
to me 

When he's ist a little teenty-weenty baby coon 
'Bout as big as little pups, an' tied him to a tree ; 
An' Pa gived Noey fifty cents, when he come home 
at noon. 
Nen he buyed a chain fer him, an' little collar, too, 
An' sawed a hole in a' old tub an' turnt it upside- 
down; 
An' little feller' d stay in there and won't come out 
fer you — 
'Tendin' like he's kindo' skeered o' boys 'at lives 
in town. 

139 



THE PET COON 

Now he ain't af eard a bit ! he's ist so fat an' tame, 
We on'y chain him up at night, to save the little 
chicks. 
Holler "Greedy! Greedy!" to him, an' he knows his 
name, 
An' here he'll come a-waddle-un, up f er any tricks ! 
He'll climb up my leg, he will, an' waller in my lap, 
An' poke his little black paws 'way in my pockets 
where 
They's beechnuts, er chinkypins, er any little scrap 
Of anything, 'at's good to eat — an' he don't care ! 

An' he's as spunky as you please, an' don't like dogs 
at all. — 
Billy Miller's black-an'-tan tackled him one day, 
An' "Greedy" he ist kindo' doubled all up like a ball, 
An' Billy's dog he gived a yelp er two an' runned 
away! 
An' nen when Billy fighted me, an' hit me with a 
bone, 
An' Ma she purt' nigh ketched him as he dodged 
an' skooted thro' 
The fence, she says, "You better let my little boy 
alone, 
Er 'Greedy/ next he whips yer dog, shall whip 
you, too!" 

140 




THE OLD HAY-MOW 

rpHE Old Hay-mow's the place to play 
-*- Fer boys, when it's a rainy day! 
I good-'eal ruther be up there 
Than down in town, er anywhere! 

When I play in our stable-loft, 
The good old hay's so dry an' soft, 
An' feels so fine, an' smells so sweet, 
1 'most ferget to go an' eat, 
141 



THE OLD HAY-MOW 

An' one time wunst I did ferget 
To go 'tel dinner was all et, — 
An' they had short-cake — an' — Bud he 
Hogged up the piece Ma saved f er me ! 

Nen I won't let him play no more 
In our hay-mow where I keep store 
An* got hen-eggs to sell, — an* shoo 
The cackle-un old hen out, too! 

An* nen, when Aunty she was here 
A-visitun from Rensselaer, 
An* bringed my little cousin, — he 
Can come up there an' play with me. 

But, after while — when Bud he bets 
'At I can't turn no summersetts, — 
I let him come up, ef he can 
Ac* ha'f-way like a gentleman ! 




ON THE SUNNY SIDE 

TTI and whoop-hooray, boys ! 
-*--*- Sing a song of cheer! 
Here's a holiday, boys, 

Lasting half a year! 
Round the world, and half is 

Shadow we have tried; 
Now we're where the laugh is,- 

On the sunny side! 

Pigeons coo and mutter, 

Strutting high aloof 
Where the sunbeams flutter 

Through the stable roof. 
Hear the chickens cheep, boys, 

And the hen with pride 
Clucking them to sleep, boys, 

On the sunny side! 
145 



ON THE SUNNY SIDE 

Hear the clacking guinea; 

Hear the cattle moo ; 
Hear the horses whinny, 

Looking out at you! 
On the hitching block, boys, 

Grandly satisfied, 
See the old peacock, boys, 

On the sunny side! 

Robins in the peach-tree; 

Bluebirds in the pear ; 
Blossoms over each tree 

In the orchard there! 
All the world's in joy, boys, 

Glad and glorified 
As a romping boy, boys, 

On the sunny side! 

Where's a heart as mellow? 

Where's a soul as free? 
Where is any fellow 

We would rather be? 
Just ourselves or none, boys, 

World around and wide, 
Laughing in the sun, boys, 

On the sunny side! .' 
146 




33 



1 



THE PIXY PEOPLE 

IT was just a very 
Merry fairy dream !— ■ 
All the woods were airy 

With the gloom and gleam; 
Crickets in the clover 

Clattered clear and strong, 
And the bees droned over 
Their old honey-song. 

In the mossy passes, 

Saucy grasshoppers 
Leapt about the grasses 

And the thistle-burs ; 
And the whispered chuckle 

Of the katydid 
Shook the honeysuckle 

Blossoms where he hid. 
149 



THE PIXY PEOPLE 

Through the breezy mazes 

Of the lazy June, 
Drowsy with the hazes 

Of the dreamy noon, 
Little Pixy people 

Winged above the walk, 
Pouring from the steeple 

Of a mullein-stalk. 

One — a gallant fellow— 

Evidently King, — 
Wore a plume of yellow 

In a jeweled ring 
On a pansy bonnet, 

Gold and white and blue, 
With the dew still on it, 

And the fragrance, too. 

One — a dainty lady, — 

Evidently Queen, — 
Wore a gown of shady 

Moonshine and green, 
With a lace of gleaming 

Starlight that sent 
All the dewdrops dreaming 

Everywhere she went. 
150 



THE PIXY PEOPLE 

One wore a waistccat 

Of roseleaves, out and in, 
And one wore a faced-coat 

Of tiger-lily-skin; 
And one wore a neat coat 

Of palest galingale ; 
And one a tiny street-coat, 

And one a swallow tail. 

And Ho ! sang the King of them, 

And Hey ! sang the Queen ; 
And round and round the ring of them 

Went dancing o'er the green ; 
And Hey ! sang the Queen of them, 

And Ho! sang the King — 
And all that I had seen of them 

— Wasn't anything! 

It was just a very 

Merry fairy dream! — 
All the woods were airy 

With the gloom and gleam; 
Crickets in the clover 

Clattered clear and strong, 
And the bees droned over 

Their old honey-song! 
153 




A SUDDEN SHOWER 

"OAREFOOTED boys send up the street, 
-*-* Or skurry under sheltering sheds; 
And schoolgirl faces, pale and sweet, 

Gleam from the shawls about their heads. 

Doors bang; and mother-voices call 

From alien homes; and rusty gates 

Are slammed; and high above it all, 
The thunder grim reverberates. 

And then, abrupt, — the rain! the rain! — 
The earth lies gasping; and the eyes 

Behind the streaming window-pane 
Smile at the trouble of the skies. 
154 



A SUDDEN SHOWER 

The highway smokes ; sharp echoes ring ; 

The cattle bawl and cowbells clank; 
And into town comes galloping 

The farmer's horse, with streaming flank 

The swallow dips beneath the eaves 

And flirts his plumes and folds his wings; 

And under the catawba leaves 

The caterpillar curls and clings. 

The bumble-bee is pelted down 

The wet stem of the hollyhock; 

And sullenly, in spattered brown, 

The cricket leaps the garden walk. 

Within, the baby claps his hands 

And crows with rapture strange and vague ; 
Without, beneath the rosebush stands 

A dripping rooster on one leg. 








GRANDFATHER SQUEERS 



<s<S~j% l"Y grandfather Squeers," said The Raggedy 

J-"- Man, 
As he solemnly lighted his pipe and began — 



'The most indestructible man, for his years, 
And the grandest on earth, was my grandfather 
Squeers ! 

"He said, when he rounded his three-score-and-ten, 
'I've the hang of it now and can do it again !' 

158 



GRANDFATHER SQUEERS 

"He had frozen his heels so repeatedly, he 

Could tell by them just what the weather would be ; 

"And would laugh and declare, 'while the Almanac 

would 
Most falsely prognosticate, he never could!' 

"Such a hale constitution had grandfather Squeers 
That, 'though he'd used 'navy' for sixty odd years, 

"He still chewed a dime's-worth six days of the 

week, 
While the seventh he passed with a chew in each 

cheek : 

"Then my grandfather Squeers had a singular knack 
Of sitting around on the small of his back. 

"With his legs like a letter Y stretched o'er the grate 
Wherein 'twas his custom to ex-pec-tor-ate. 

"He was fond of tobacco in manifold ways, 
And would sit on the door-step, of sunshiny days, 

"And smoke leaf -tobacco he'd raised strictly for 
The pipe he'd used all through The Mexican War." 

161 



GRANDFATHER SQUEERS 

And The Raggedy Man said, refilling the bowl 
Of his own pipe and leisurely picking a coal 

From the stove with his finger and thumb, "You 

can see 
What a tee-nacious habit he's fastened on me ! 

"And my grandfather Squeers took a special delight 
In pruning his corns every Saturday night 

"With a horn-handled razor, whose edge he excused 
By saying 'twas one that his grandfather used ; 

"And, though deeply etched in the haft of the same 
Was the ever-euphonious Wostenholm's name, 

" 'Twas my grandfather's custom to boast of the 

blade 
As 'A Seth Thomas razor — the best ever made!' 

"No Old Settlers' Meeting, or Pioneers' Fair, 
Was complete without grandfather Squeers in the 
chair 

"To lead off the programme by telling folks how 
'He used to shoot deer where the Court-House stands 
now' — 

162 



Iff I 






1 

Br #" 




I 







GRANDFATHER SQUEERS 

"How 'he felt, of a truth, to live over the past 
When the country was wild and unbroken and vast, 

" That the little log cabin was just plenty fine 
For himself, his companion, and f ambly of nine ! — 

" 'When they didn't have even a pump, or a tin, 
But drunk surface-water, year out and year in, 

" 'From the old-fashioned gourd that was sweeter, 

by odds, 
Than the goblets of gold at the lips of the gods !' " 

Then The Raggedy Man paused to plaintively say 
It was clockin' along to'rds the close of the day — 

And he'd ought to get back to his work on the 

lawn, — 
Then dreamily blubbered his pipe and went on : 

"His teeth were imperfect — my grandfather owned 
That he couldn't eat oysters unless they were 'boned' ; 

"And his eyes were so weak, and so feeble of sight, 
He couldn't sleep with them unless, every night, 

165 



GRANDFATHER SQUEERS 

"He put on his spectacles — all he possessed, — 
Three pairs — with his goggles on top of the rest. 

"And my grandfather always, retiring at night, 
Blew down the lamp-chimney to put out the 
light; 

"Then he'd curl up on edge like a shaving, in bed, 
And puff and smoke pipes in his sleep, it is said : 

"And would snore oftentimes, as the legends 

relate, 
Till his folks were wrought up to a terrible state, — 

"Then he'd snort, and rear up, and roll over; and 

there, 
In the subsequent hush they could hear him chew air. 

"And so glaringly bald was the top of his head 
That many's the time he has musingly said, 

"As his eyes journeyed o'er its reflex in the glass, — 
'I must set out a few signs of Keep Off the Grass!' 



166 



GRANDFATHER SQUEERS 

"So remarkably deaf was my grandfather Squeers 
That he had to wear lightning-rods over his ears 

"To even hear thunder — and oftentimes then 
He was forced to request it to thunder again." 





A LIFE-LESSON 

^HERE! little girl; don't cry! 

They have broken your doll, I know; 
And your tea-set blue, 
And your play-house, too, 
Are things of the long ago ; 

But childish troubles will soon pass 
by.- 
There! little girl; don't cry! 

168 



A LIFE-LESSON 

There! little girl; don't cry! 

They have broken your slate, I know ; 
And the glad, wild ways 
Of your school-girl days 
Are things of the long ago ; 

But life and love will soon come by. — 
There! little girl; don't cry! 

There! little girl; don't cry! 

They have broken your heart, I know ; 
And the rainbow gleams 
Of your youthful dreams 
Are things of the long ago ; 

But Heaven holds all for which you sigh. 
There ! little girl ; don't cry ! 





A HOME-MADE FAIRY TALE 

T)UD, come here to your Uncle a spell, 
■*-* And I'll tell you something you mustn't tell — 
For it's a secret and shore-nuff true, 
And maybe I oughtn't to tell it to you ! — 
But out in the garden, under the shade 
Of the apple-trees where we romped and played 
Till the moon was up, and you thought I'd gone 
Fast asleep. — That was all put on! 
For I was a-watchin' something queer 
Goin' on there in the grass, my dear! 
'Way down deep in it, there I see 
A little dude-Fairy who winked at me, 

170 



A HOME-MADE FAIRY TALE 

And snapped his fingers, and laughed as low 

And fine as the whine of a mus-kee-to ! 

I kept still — watchin' him closer — and 

I noticed a little guitar in his hand, 

Which he leant Vinst a little dead bee — and laid 

His cigarette down on a clean grass-blade ; 

And then climbed up on the shell of a snail — 

Carefully dusting his swallowtail — 

And pulling up, by a waxed web-thread, 

This little guitar, you remember, I said! 

And there he trinkled and trilled a tune — 

"My Love, so Fair, Tans in the Moon !" 

Till presently, out of the clover-top 

He seemed to be singing to, came k'pop ! 

The purtiest, daintiest Fairy face 

In all this world, or any place ! 

Then the little ser'nader waved his hand, 

As much as to say, "We'll excuse your and 

I heard, as I squinted my eyelids to, 

A kiss like the drip of a drop of dew! 




THE BEAR STORY 

THAT ALEX "1ST MAKED UP HIS-OWN-SE'F" 

W'Y, wunst they wuz a Little Boy went out 
In the woods to shoot a Bear. So, he went out 
'Way in the grea'-big woods — he did. — An' he 
V7uz goin' along — an' goin' along, you know, 
An* purty soon he heerd somepin' go "Wooh!" — 
1st thataway — "Woo-ooh!" An* he wuz sheered, 
He wuz. An* so he runned an' clumbed a tree — 
A grea'-big tree, he did, — a sicka-more tree. 
An' nen he heerd it ag'in : an' he looked round, 
An* 't'uz a Bear! — a grea'-big shore-nuff Bear! — 
No : 't'uz two Bears, it wuz — two grea'-big Bears — 
One of 'em wuz — ist one's a grea'-big Bear. — 
But they ist boff went "Wooh!" — An' here they come 
To climb the tree an' git the Little Boy ' , 
An' eat him up ! 

174 



THE BEAR STORY 

An* nen the Little Boy 
He 'uz skeered worse'n ever! An' here come 
The grea'-big Bear a-climbin' th' tree to git 
The Little Boy an' eat him up — Oh, no! — 
It 'uzn't the Big Bear 'at dumb the tree — 
It 'uz the Little Bear. So here he come 
Climbin' the tree — an* climbin' the tree ! Nen when 
He gits wite clo'st to the Little Boy, w'y, nen 
The Little Boy he ist pulled up his gun 
An' shot the Bear, he did, an* killed him dead! 
An' nen the Bear he failed clean on down out 
The tree — away clean to the ground, he did — 
Spling -spiting ! he failed plum down, an* killed him, 

too! 
An* lit wite side o' where the Big Bear's at. 



An* nen the Big Bear's awful mad, you bet ! — 
'Cause — 'cause the Little Boy he shot his gun 
An' killed the Little Bear. — 'Cause the Big Bear 
He — he 'uz the Little Bear's Papa. — An' so here 
He come to climb the big old tree an' git 
The Little Boy an' eat him up! An' when 
The Little Boy he saw the grea'-big Bear 

177 



THE BEAR STORY 

A-comin', he uz badder skeered, he wuz, 

Than any time! An* so he think he'll climb 

Up higher — 'way up higher in the tree 

Than the old Bear kin climb, you know. — But he — 

He can't climb higher 'an old Bears kin climb, — 

'Cause Bears kin climb up higher in the trees 

Than any little Boys in all the Wo-r-r-ld! 

An' so here come the grea'-big Bear, he did, — 

A-climbin' up — an' up the tree, to git 

The Little Boy an' eat him up ! An' so 

The Little Boy he clumbed on higher, an' higher, 

An' higher up the tree — an' higher — an' higher — 

An' higher'n iss-here house is! — An' here come 

Th' old Bear — clos'ter to him all the time ! — 

An' nen — first thing you know, — when th' old Big 

Bear 
Wuz wite clos't to him — nen the Little Boy 
1st jabbed his gun wite in the old Bear's mouf 
An' shot an' killed him dead! — No; I f ergot, — 
He didn't shoot the grea'-big Bear at all — 
'Cause they 'uz no load in the gun, you know — 
'Cause when he shot the Little Bear, w'y, nen 
No load 'uz anymore nen in the gun! 

178 



THE BEAR STORY 

But th' Little Boy dumbed higher up, he did — 
He clumbed lots higher — an' on up higher — an' 

higher 
An* higher — tel he 1st can't climb no higher, 
'Cause nen the limbs 'uz all so little, 'way 
Up in the teeny-weeny tip-top of 
The tree, they'd break down wiv him ef he don't 
Be keerful! So he stop an' think: An' nen 
He look around — An' here come th' old Bear ! 

An' so the Little Boy make up his mind 
He's got to ist git out o' there some way ! — 
'Cause here come the old Bear! — so clos't, his bref's 
Purt 'nigh so's he kin feel how hot it is 
Ag'inst his bare feet — ist like old "Ring's" bref 
When he's ben out a-huntin an's all tired. 
So when th' old Bear's so clos't — the Little Boy 
Ist gives a grea'-big jump fer 'nother tree — 
No! — no he don't do that! — I tell you what 
The Little Boy does : — W'y, nen — w'y, he — -Oh, yes — 
The Little Boy he finds a hole up there 
'At's in the tree — an' climbs in there an' hides — 
An' nen th' old Bear can't find the Little Boy 
At all ! — But, purty soon th' old Bear finds 
The Little Boy's gun 'at's up there — 'cause the gun 

181 



THE BEAR STOEY 

It's too tall to tooked wiv him in the hole. 
So, when the Old Bear fin' the gun, he knows 
The Little Boy's ist hid 'round somers there, — 
An' the old Bear 'gins to snuff an' sniff around, 
An' sniff an' snuff around — so's he kin find 
Out where the Little Boy's hid at. — An' nen — nen — 
Oh, yes! — W'y, purty soon the old Bear climbs 
'Way out on a big limb — a grea'-long limb, — 
An' nen the Little Boy climbs out the hole 
An' takes his ax an' chops the limb off ! . . . Nen 
The old Bear falls k-splunge! clean to the ground 
An' bust an' kill hisse'f plum dead, he did! 

An' nen the Little Boy he git his gun 
An' 'menced a-climbin' down the tree ag'in— 
No! — no, he didn't git his gun — 'cause when 
The Bear failed, nen the gun failed, too — An' broked 
It all to pieces, too ! — An' nicest gun ! — 
His Pa ist buyed it ! — An' the Little Boy 
Ist cried, he did ! an' went on climbin' down 
The tree — an' climbin' down — an' climbin' down! — 
An' -sir! when he 'uz purt' nigh down, — w'y, nen 
The old Bear he jumped up ag'in — an' he 
Ain't dead at all — ist 'tendin' thataway, 
So he kin git the Little Boy an' eat . 

182 



THE BEAR STORY 

Him up ! But the Little Boy he 'uz too smart 

To climb clean down the tree. — An* the old Bear 

He can't climb up the tree no more — 'cause when 

He fell, he broke one of his — he broke all 

His legs! — an' nen he couldn't climb! But he 

1st won't go 'way an' let the Little Boy 

Come down out of the tree. An* the old Bear 

1st growls 'round there, he does — ist growls an' goes 

"Wooh! — woo-ooh!" all the time! An' Little Boy 

He haf to stay up in the tree — all night — 

An' 'thout no supper neether! — On'y they 

Wuz apples on the tree! — An' Little Boy 

Et apples — ist all night — an' cried — an' cried! 

Nen when 'tuz morning th' old Bear went "Wooh!" 

Ag'in, an' try to climb up in the tree 

An' git the Little Boy. — But he can't 

Climb t' save his soul, he can't ! — An' oh! he's mad! — 

He ist tear up the ground ! an' go "Woo-ooh!" 

An' — Oh, yes! — purty soon, when morning's come 

All light — so's you kin see, you know, — w'y, nen 

The old Bear finds the Little Boy's gun, you know, 

'At's on the ground. — (An' it ain't broke at all — 

I ist said that!) An' so the old Bear think 

He'll take the gun an' shoot the Little Boy: 

185 



THE BEAR STORY 

But Bears they don't know much 'bout shootin' guns ; 

So when he go to shoot the Little Boy, 

The old Bear got the other end the gun 

Ag'in' his shoulder, 'stid o' th' other end— 

So when he try to shoot the Little Boy, 

It shot the Bear, it did — an' killed him dead! 

An' nen the Little Boy dumb down the tree 

An' chopped his old woolly head off : — Yes, an' killed 

The other Bear ag'in, he did — an' killed 

All boff the bears, he did — an* tuk 'em home 

An' cooked 'em too, an' et 'em ! 

— An' that's all. 




ENVOY 

"]% /TANY pleasures of youth have been buoyantly 
-L»J- sung — 

And, borne on the winds of delight, may they beat 
With their palpitant wings at the hearts of the 
Young, 

And in bosoms of Age find as warm a retreat ! — 
Yet sweetest of all of the musical throng, 

Though least of the numbers that upward aspire, 
Is the one rising now into wavering song, 

As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire. 

Tis a Winter long dead that beleaguers my door 

And muffles his steps in the snows of the past : 
And I see, in the embers I'm dreaming before, 

Lost faces of love as they looked on me last : — 
The round, laughing eyes of the desk-mate of old 

Gleam out for a moment with truant desire — 
Then fade and are lost in a City of Gold, 

As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire. 

And then comes the face, peering back in my own, 
Of a shy little girl, with her lips drooping low, 

As she faltering tells, in a far-away tone, 
The ghost of a story of long, long ago. — 
187 



ENVOY 

Then her dewy blue eyes they are lifted again; 

But I see their glad light slowly fail and expire, 
As I reach and cry to her in vain, all in vain ! — 

As I sit in the silence and gaze at the fire. 

Then the face of a Mother looks back, through the 
mist 

Of tears that are welling; and, lucent with light, 
I see the dear smile of the lips I have kissed 

As she knelt by my cradle at morning and night ; 
And my arms are outheld, with a yearning too wild 

For any but God in His love to inspire, 
As she pleads at the foot of His throne for her 
child, — 

As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire. 

pathos of rapture! glorious pain! 

My heart is a blossom of joy overrun 
With a shower of tears, as a lily with rain 

That weeps in the shadow and laughs in the sun. 
The blight of the frost may descend on the tree, 

And the leaf and the flower may fall and expire, 
But ever and ever love blossoms for me, 

As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire. 

188 



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